Ned's premises turned out correct, for scarcely had night fallen when they heard deep roarings, and lost no time in ascending a tree, and making themselves fast there, before they went to sleep.
In the morning they proceeded upon their journey. After walking a couple of hours, Ned laid his arm upon Tom's shoulder.
"Hush!" he whispered. "Look there."
Through the trees, at a short distance off, could be seen a stag. He was standing, gazing intently at a tree, and did not appear to have heard their approach.
"What can he be up to?" Tom whispered. "He must have heard us."
"He seems paralyzed," Ned said. "Don't you see how he is trembling? There must be some wild beast in the tree."
Both gazed attentively at the tree, but could see nothing to account for the attitude of the deer.
"Wild beast or no," Ned said, "he will do for our dinner."
So saying, he unslung his bow, and fitted an arrow. There was a sharp twang, and the deer rolled over, struck to the heart. There was no movement in the tree, but Ned placed another arrow in place. Tom had done the same.
They stood silent for a few minutes, but all was still.